The Darkest Crystal
by homesweethomicide13
Summary: Barda named his oldest daughter 'Mariah Crystal', and when she asks how he came up with her name, he tells her – although the story isn't quite what she expected it to be. BardaLindal.


**Title:** The Darkest Crystal  
**Author:** homesweethomicide13  
**Rating:** T  
**Pairing:** BardaLindal  
**Warning:** Mentions death and has a hint of adult nature at the end XD  
**Disclaimer:** Mariah and Crystal belong to me. Barda does not. Yet.  
**Summary:** Barda named his oldest daughter 'Mariah Crystal', and when she asks how he came up with her name, he tells her – although the story isn't quite what she expected it to be.

**The Darkest Crystal**

Barda lounged in a chair on the back terrace of his house, watching his four sons playing in the yard. It was summer in Broome, and like every other family, they were making the most of the sunshine and the warm weather. The back door opened behind him and his wife stepped out onto the terrace with an ice cold glass of cider, which she placed on the small table beside his chair. He quickly grabbed her hand and tugged her into his lap – and grinned when she suddenly became very embarrassed. Even after all their years of marriage, he still knew exactly what to do to embarrass her like that. She quickly got over it and smiled at him, sneaking in a quick kiss before easily slipping off his lap and returning to the cool shade of the kitchen. He watched her go before picking up the glass of cider and taking a long sip, allowing the ice cold liquid to wash pleasantly down his throat. He had just set it back onto the table when he spotted his two daughters coming towards him.

"Daddy!" His youngest, Divinity, came rushing forwards, holding out a handful of daises and smiling so widely he thought her face was going to split in half. "Look what Mariah and I picked for mommy!" He made an over-exaggerated gesture of inspecting the little flowers and inhaling their sweet scent before sitting back and smiling.

"I am quite positive that she will love them." He told her, keeping a very serious expression on his face. "In fact, why don't you go and give them to her right now?" He took her free hand in his own, folding his long, slender fingers almost twice around her tiny, young hand. "Maybe you could even make them into a pretty little necklace, like Daddy showed you. Do you remember?" She nodded brightly, clasping the daises even tighter. When she'd found out, Lindal had been ever so amused that her rather masculine husband had known how to make a perfect daisy chain. A few weeks of teasing had followed, but she'd stopped when he stated that she was just jealous that he could be a prettier little girl than she could.

"Okay!" Divinity grinned. "I'll make them into a chain, Daddy, like you showed me to!" He returned her grin and pulled her forward gently, kissing her forehead softly and gently ruffling her hair. When he let go of her hand, she instantly darted into the house to make her daisy chain. Mariah remained standing beside his chair, a smile on her face. Her female friends from school often talked about their parents, and how they were all closer to their mothers because they could talk about make-up and boys and other girly things, but for her it was totally different. Although she loved her mother dearly, she was very much a 'Daddy's Girl'. She talked to him about anything and everything – from weapons and fighting styles, to more mature topics. She could even talk to him about boys, if she so wished, because unlike most fathers, he was more understanding. Sure, he didn't like the idea of her dating boys or even getting married, but he listened to her and offered her advice when she asked for it. And, she supposed, she could probably talk to him about make-up, too – after all, he seemed to know a lot more about those things than her mother did.

"Everything alright, my precious crystal?" He asked when she said nothing for a long time. She grinned instantly. She knew many of her friends were jealous because her father doted upon her at every possible moment, and always treated her like a princess. Plus, they all adored the beautiful things he called her – though not many of them understood where the names came from. It was all very simple really. Although she was known throughout the town as Mariah, her actual full name was in fact Mariah-Crystal, but her parents had decided to shorten it to save hassle. She had never been told why she had a double barrel name, and she'd never really given it much thought before. She knew that it had been her father who'd given her the name Crystal, and now she briefly wondered why.

"Just a general wondering, Daddy," she said slowly, stepping a little closer to his chair. He waved a hand for her to continue as he sipped again at his cider. "Why did you name me Crystal as well as Mariah?" He smiled and set the glass down.

"It's rather a long story, sweetheart. Why don't you sit down, and I'll tell you all about it." She grinned and instantly settled in his lap – her favourite chair in the entire world. "It actually goes back to the days when I was still a young boy. You see, you're named after someone I once knew, someone who really touched my heart." Mariah poked her father's chest, not worrying about how hard she did it – she'd long ago found out that trying to injure her father was like trying to run through an iron wall – impossible, and it hurt to try.

"Was she your _girlfriend_?" She teased. Barda laughed easily and shook his head.

"Not at all. In fact, she would have been far too old for me when I met her." His grin faded into a gentle smile. "Now, growing up among hundreds of other young boys all fighting for the same goal is tough, and not many of them actually make it through, but those who do have usually proven something to the others. It wasn't rare for some of the boys to dare others to do stupid or dangerous things to prove they were 'real men' and worthy of becoming a strong, brave palace guard.

"There was one dare that very few boys ever agreed to do, and even less managed to complete. The palace gardens are very large, as you know, but they have been greatly changed since I lived there. At the very back, towards the south end of the palace, there was a thickly wooded corner that has now disappeared due to the destruction of the Shadow Lord. It was known as the Dark Wood, due to the fact that the canopy of the trees was so tightly woven together that very little sunlight ever made it through to the ground. My mother actually told me not to go near that place at all, but of course I did.

"In the middle of Dark Wood, there was a small cemetery, and this eerie place was the spot for the dare that very few boys ever tried. There were terrible stories about the cemetery, about ghosts and evil spirits, and everyone was afraid to go near the place. When I was about fourteen, some older boys said they bet I was too scared to go into the cemetery and kneel beside a certain grave, because of who was buried there and the stories that revolved around it. Anyway, I accepted the challenge and we all ended up at the entrance to Dark Wood. Of course, I would be accompanied to the graveyard but they would not go to the grave with me. I can still remember the events of that evening as clearly as though they happened yesterday…

_In the past…_

"Alright, this is where we leave you." The ringleader said, giving Barda a small shove towards the graveyard. "The grave is in the darkest corner, in between two large stone crypts. We can see you from here, so we'll know if you chicken out or not." Barda straightened his shoulders and glared at them.

"I'm no chicken. I'll do this easy." He hissed, lifting one booted foot and stepping over the low stone wall that bordered the cemetery. He knew that the three boys behind him would be watching him the entire time, so he had to keep his confidence and not let nerves get to him. He'd never liked graveyards. They creeped him out completely – so still and silent, and a constant reminder of death. Once both feet were inside the graveyard, he looked around, surveying the land and searching for the darkest corner. He wasn't going to waste any time. The sooner he got this over with, the sooner he could leave and never return.

He took a deep breath and began walking through the graveyard towards what he believed was the darkest corner. He would have been there in seconds if he hadn't had to walk around every single grave in his way. He couldn't help looking at each stone marker as he passed them, and his chest tightened as he realized that each of them belonged to children of various ages. He didn't read the names, but his eyes followed the ages of each one. _2 weeks. 4 years. 1 day. 12 years. 7 years. 2 years. 4 weeks._ Eventually he tore his eyes away from them, not wanting to look at the horrible reminders that even he could die at any moment. Would he be buried here, among the other children? No. His mother didn't like this place, so she would bury him elsewhere.

"What am I talking about? I ain't dead and I ain't going to die." He whispered furiously to himself. Distracted, he tripped over something on the ground and tumbled, landing hard on his knees and falling at an awkward angle onto his side. The worst thoughts jumped to the front of his mind and he quickly jerked his legs away from whatever he had fallen over, and stared at the spot in horror. Instead of the decaying body part he had instantly imagined, there was a simple ceramic pot filled with dead flowers. Sighing in relief, he returned the pot to an upright position and stood up. He could hear the older boys sniggering to themselves, but he didn't care. He scowled down at the mud on his knees and wished he hadn't worn shorts that day. Still, he could easily hide the evidence from his mother, who would no doubt wonder where the mud had come from on such a bright day.

It wasn't very bright in the cemetery, however, and a chill wind whipped around his bare arms and legs. He began walking a bit quicker now, eager to be out of the graveyard and the cold atmosphere that surrounded it. He told himself he was imagining the feeling of being watched, but it kept pushing at him, reminding him of the horrible stories he'd been told about this place. Eventually he saw the corner of a large stone crypt and almost smiled in relief. He touched a hand to the worn, old stone and looked over the top of it – now he did smile. Beyond was another crypt, exactly the same, leaving a wide gap between them. That meant the grave he was looking for must be in that gap.

"Here we go, Barda. Time to prove you're a man." He turned to look at the three pale faces at the edge of the cemetery and waved at them before walking around the crypt. He set eyes upon the small marker set into the ground and something pulled at his heart. The stories were all true, after all. The details engraved into the stone told him that the little girl buried here had only been six years old when her parents had brutally murdered her, believing her to be an evil spirit. They had strapped her down to her bed and torched their home, killing themselves in the process. Their family crypts were either side of this small grave – a possible joke to the little girl, who had to remain between her murderous parents for all eternity.

He knelt beside the grave, feeling hot tears prickling at the back of his eyes. He couldn't understand how a parent could hurt their own child. His mother would rather sell herself to the Shadow Lord than lay a wrong hand on him. He put a hand to the cold grass on top of the girl's grave and sighed.

"You poor thing. I bet you had no idea, huh? I bet you just wanted them to love you." He whispered softly, staring at the girl's name. The wind picked up sharply and caught him by surprise. He quickly realized that he had fulfilled the requirements for the dare and he stood up and turned to face the edge of the cemetery where he had left the boys, but he could no longer see them. "Oh you've gotta be kidding me." He had meant for it to come out in an angry growl, but he could only manage a murmur slightly tinted with fear. They'd left him alone in this cold, dark place. If this was part of the dare, they should have told him about it before letting him step foot in the cemetery. Not that he would have refused if they had, but he liked to know what was going on. He liked knowing what to expect.

He started walking back towards the stone wall that bordered the graveyard, intent on getting out of Dark Wood and finding those boys to give them a piece of his mind. They may have been several years older, and several times bigger, but he was a pretty strong fighter and he was pretty damn angry with them. He had gotten halfway through the graveyard when he felt his blood run cold. A tingle started at the base of his spine and he stopped dead, his eyes widening slightly. Slowly, he turned his head and looked over his shoulder. He could see the crypts clearly, but the grave was hidden behind them. The cemetery was empty, except for him. So why did he feel like he was being watched by haunted eyes? Shaking it off, he all but ran towards the wall and easily jumped over it into Dark Wood.

"That was totally creepy." He whispered to himself. He turned to start walking back towards the end of Dark Wood when he heard a noise behind him – a noise that sounded a lot like a little girl's giggle. He turned sharply, almost losing his balance, but there was nothing behind him. "It's in your head, Barda. All in your head." He told himself firmly. But then he heard it again, closer, and once again behind him. There was still nothing there. "If those boys are playing a joke on me, I swear I'll make them pay." When the giggle came again, it sounded as though it was right by his ear, and he jumped away from it, tripping over his own feet and landing in a heap on the floor. He quickly bolted around and stopped. Stood in front of him, looking down at him with the purest of smiles, was a little girl in a pretty white dress.

"Are you okay?" She asked. "I didn't mean to scare you." He stared at her for a long time before he spoke.

"Where did you come from?"

"Oh I was just on a walk. I come here all the time, you know." She giggled again, and the sound sent a shiver down his spine. He got to his feet and brushed himself off, and realized that the girl was younger than he had first imagined – she barely reached his waist in height.

"On your own? Where are your parents?" If he hadn't have had quite a shock, he might have wondered about the strange appearance of a young girl in a dark wood on her own, especially after spending some time beside the grave of a six-year-old girl, but instead his protective side quickly took over. "You shouldn't be out here so late, you know. Shall I walk you home?"

"Okay. If you want to. I'll show you where I live." She took his hand as any little girl would and began pulling him further into the wood, towards the exit. "What's your name?" He smiled. Her hand was cold in his, and her cheeks were slightly pink from the chill wind.

"Barda." He told her. He was fascinated by the colour of her hair – it was a mixture of blonde, gold and brown, with pure, almost-white streaks. Even in the dim light, it seemed to shimmer and glow. "So, where is it you live? I've never seen you before."

"I lived in the servants' quarter, once." She giggled. "But I don't live there now." Barda bit his lip nervously as he realized he was possibly walking beside the daughter of some high Lord, and he would most likely be punished for laying a hand on her, even if it was to escort her home. How would her father do it? Would he beat him, like all the other Lords did? "You live there, too." He was jerked out of his thoughts at her statement.

"How do you know that?"

"Easy. You look like a servant boy, and you're very nice. Noble boys are mean and horrible." Barda smiled. "I like you, Barda. Will you be my friend?"

"Of course, if that is what you wish." He briefly wondered at her age. He knew that most noble daughters were married off by the time they were sixteen. He couldn't imagine this gentle-looking girl being married to some older, meaner man. It just wouldn't sit right with him if she wasn't taken care of like a princess. "So, why are you out here all alone at this time? Aren't your parents worried?"

"No. They don't worry about me." The little girl's face saddened. "They don't pay attention to me." Barda wasn't surprised to hear that – most noble children were ignored by their high-born parents. It's why most of them turned out so awful – a clear contrast to the servant children, whose parents adored them. "Sometimes I wish I wasn't their little girl." She looked up at him with the brightest blue eyes ever. "I wish I could be _your_ little girl, Barda. You'd make a good daddy." He was shocked at her words. He'd never even thought much about getting married, let alone having children.

"Why do you say that?" He was curious – how had she come to that conclusion after only knowing him for a short while? She giggled again, but this time he found the sound glorious.

"I can just tell. You're a very nice boy and very gentle, and kind. You treat girls the way they should be treated, too. Like princesses." She grinned at him. "Can I be your little girl, Barda? Please?" He smiled down at her.

"Unfortunately, it doesn't quite work like that." He saw her smile fade. "But, we can always pretend, right? I don't mind pretending to be your daddy." The grin returned instantly. "Now, first of all, I suppose I should know my little girl's name, shouldn't I?" She giggled behind her hand.

"But you already know my name, silly." Barda frowned and quickly searched through his memories, but he couldn't recall ever seeing her before, and she certainly hadn't told him her name so far. He gazed into those deep blue eyes and he quickly added everything up. His blood ran cold as he recalled the story he'd been told earlier that day…

_"They say that all those who kneel at her grave get haunted forever by her ghost. She follows them back to their home and reveals herself to them at night, and promises them that they'll soon join her, so she can have more playmates in whatever hell she is in. At first she appears as the little girl she was when she did, all sweet and innocent with big blue eyes and golden hair, but then she reveals her true form – she's all burnt and blistered from the fire, and she reaches out for your throat and no one is really sure if you die from fright or from suffocation…"_

He stared at her, realization kicking in. He'd never seen a picture of the girl who had been buried in that small grave, but he knew if he did then he would see the very image of the little girl in front of him. She was still looking at him with a childish grin on her face, waiting for him to say her name. He remembered the engraved words and wet his lips nervously.

"Crystal." She giggled once more and hugged his waist tightly.

"See! I told you!" He waited, horrified, for her to change her form. He waited for her body to burn, to become the shell of the girl that had once been, but it never came. She looked up at him with her bright eyes and he realized that she wasn't going to hurt him, much less kill him. "I didn't want to scare you at first, Barda, but I wanted someone to be my friend. It gets very lonely here. No one plays with me – the other children are all scared of me. But you'll play with me Barda, won't you? You'll pretend to be my daddy and I'll pretend to be your little girl and I won't be lonely anymore."

"Of course I will." He knelt in front of her, speaking softly. "I will visit you every chance I get, I promise. We'll play games together, and sing songs and tell each other jokes. I'll be your daddy, Crystal. I promise."

_In the present…_

"Did you go back there again?" Mariah asked, the first words she'd spoken since Barda had started his story.

"Of course. I promised her I would. I went back there at least once or twice a week, right up until the Shadow Lord invaded. I visited her one last time after my mother had been killed. I knew that no one would look for me there. I told her that I had to go away for a while, but that I would come back as soon as I could. She made me promise that I would be her daddy always, and I sealed that promise by telling her one very special thing." Mariah waited for him to continue. Barda smiled and kissed her forehead, before looking into her bright blue eyes – his eyes, and the eyes of a little girl who had once asked him to be her father for always. "I told her that even if I could not come back, I would remember her forever, and I would name my firstborn daughter after her."

"So that's why you asked mother if you could add Crystal to my name?"

"That's right. And when you were only six years old, and you took my hand and asked me to play a game with you, I saw her in you." He ran his fingers through her long, dark ponytail, her hair like silk against his skin. "Unfortunately, Dark Wood and the cemetery were destroyed in the time of the Shadow Lord. No one has ever found out what happened to those graves. All of those children… just vanished."

"But the stories… were they not true?"

"Oh, they were true. At least, the basics were true. I often saw the ghosts of the other children – not as clearly as Crystal's, of course, and I could not touch them as I could her, but sometimes when we were playing Hide and Seek, I would see one in the corner of my eye. Of course, whenever I looked properly they were gone. I think they were scared of Crystal because of what her parents claimed she was, but maybe it was me they were afraid of. Imagine that – a ghost afraid of a human!" Barda laughed slightly. "I eventually caught up with those boys, by the way, and they asked me if I was haunted and if I'd seen the Burnt Ghost. I got my revenge on them for leaving me alone there." He smirked. "I told them that the Burnt Ghost had indeed come to me, and I'd offered her _their_ souls in exchange for my life. I later heard that all three of them had refused to go out at night, and slept with about thirty candles blazing. Crystal and I had a good laugh at that."

"I wish I could have met her, Daddy. She sounds like Divinity." Barda nodded. He'd also noticed the same thing. Both of his little girls bore uncanny resemblance to Crystal, the only difference being the hair colour. Perhaps Crystal had been a very distant relative of his, one that had been hidden due to the dark history behind her. The door opened and Divinity darted out, a lollipop in one hand and her favourite plush toy – a rather battered tiger that he had bought for her when she was only a year old – in the other. Lindal stepped out onto the terrace, a delicate chain of daises around her wrist, courtesy of the youngest daughter of the family. Out in the yard, Kade had broken away from his brothers and was sitting with Divinity on the grass, the male copy of her. Jay and Joeley, as always, were arguing about something one of them had said, and Liam was trying desperately to get between them and stop the fight before it got physical. Mariah rolled her eyes and gracefully hopped down from her father's lap and ran over to help. Surprisingly, the empty space on his lap was quickly filled with his wife, who for once did not seem at all embarrassed by the display of affection.

"That little girl was right, Barda." She murmured into his ear. "You're a wonderful father." He smiled and kissed her, softly at first. Before he'd met Lindal, marriage and children had been far from his mind, but he'd always remembered Crystal's kind words about him, and he'd found himself a woman who was in desperate need of being treated like a _queen_. He slipped an arm around her back and underneath her knees and stood up, holding her easily in his arms. She yelped in surprise and quickly threw her arms around his neck, clinging to him even though she knew he would not drop her. Barda met Liam's eyes and winked slyly, causing the oldest boy of the family to redden slightly in embarrassment, before turning and carrying his wife into their home and up to their room. He was going to treat her like she deserved to be treated.

Although, in the end, he would probably be the one being treated like a queen.

* * *

_**Author's Note: **Okay, that last line is my FAVOURITE in the entire story XD In case you don't understand, it's a joke on the fact that Lindal is supposedly more manly than Barda :P (I know it can also have homosexual hints, but that's not what I intended (for once) XD). Oh, and who loves the fact that Barda knows how to make the most perfect daisy chain? He's a pretty little girl on the inside, and we all know it. XD  
Oh, and as for that last little part - well, it IS BardaLindal, after all, and how do you think they managed to have SIX children? I mean, come on! XD The wink at Liam is a gesture that was long ago established to mean 'keep the kids out here' XD_

_Hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Don't forget to review, cause reviews make Jarda happen, and that's the best reason ever to review! I kid, I kid... I should go to sleep before I say anything else and disturb someone. _


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